AmericanTheaterWeb Original News & Reviews

Theatrically speaking, the new musical A Tale of Two Cities, which opened last night on Broadway, is neither the best of times nor is it the worst of times. The music from Jill Santoriello (who's also written the book and lyrics) may sound derivative, but it's sung beautifully by many of the principals and the ensemble. Her condensed retelling of Charles Dickens novel may not offer many surprises, but it's generally lucid and retains enough of the original's flavor to satisfy. Warren Carlyle's direction and choreography may not hold any break any new ground, but his work unfolds within an extremely handsome and clever environment from scenic designer Tony Walton and under Richard Brow's eye-poppingly beautifully lighting design. In other words, there's enough that's right about "Tale" to ensure that theatergoers will not have a bad time with the show, but at the same time, it's a musical that never fully satisfies.

The musical gets off to a rocky start with a short pantomime sequence behind a scrim where audiences see a young man stabbed while he grieves over the body of another. Another man looks on at the murder and is promptly taken away from the scene. For those who know the novel intimately, the sequence is remarkably clear, holding a key to one aspect of Dickens' story. For anyone else, though, the moment raises more questions than it answers. Thankfully, the musical soon starts off on its tale with the introduction of Miss Pross (Katherine McGrath), the housekeeper who's responsible for raising a little girl named Lucie in England, after the disappearance of the child's father in the decade immediately preceding the French Revolution.

The action quickly flashes forward and Lucie (Brandi Burkhardt) has grown into young adulthood, and learns from Pross that they are travelling to France, along with family friend Jarvis Lorry (Michael Hayward-Jones) to retrieve Lucie's father, Dr. Manette (Greg Edelman), who has recently been released from his imprisonment in the Bastille. The rapidity with which this action takes place is almost stirring, and it leads into the heart of Dickens' intricate story about the Manette clan, Lucie's romance with Charles Darnay (Aaron Lazar), a French noble who's renounced his title, and the love that she inspires in Sidney Carton (James Barbour), a dissolute attorney, who must be hired to defend Darnay during his early days in England.

These performers may be the chief reason to take in "Tale." Burkhardt uses her strong soprano to beautiful effect – even when Santoriello's lyrics seem saccharine – and she imbues Lucie with an inner strength that makes the character a genuine heroine. Lazar cuts a handsome figure as the romantic – in all senses of the word – Darnay and Edelman brings both warmth and gravity to the role of Dr. Manette.

As Carton, Barbour, who never manages to eclipse, even at this remove, the memory of Ronald Colman's performance in the role in the 1935 movie, can look simultaneously boyishly impish, debonair, and debauched. Like his co-stars, he exudes a level of humanity that elevates much of the material in "Tale," including some of the power-ballads that Santoriello has written, tunes that can at times be frighteningly reminiscent of other similar era musicals. Perhaps most important, Barbour manages to infuse Carton's sacrifice for Lucie and Darnay with great dignity.

The same cannot be said of Natalie Toro, who plays the vengeful Madame Defarge, the woman who keeps track of the injustices committed by the French nobility in the knitting that seems to be perpetually in her hands. Toro sings two of the biggest numbers in "Tale" – songs that require her to wail as if Defarge were some sort of contestant on "American Idol." These songs not only feel inappropriate musically, they also seem to have been placed to ensure that they have maximum aural impact, rather than for dramatic reasons. This is particularly true of her first act throat-ripper, "Out of Sight, Out of Mind," which would make much more sense in the second act after theatergoers have learned the reasons for Defarge's bitterness.

Throughout, a sextet of arced skeletal towers, which indicate gorgeously, the interiors and exteriors of townhomes on both sides of the Channel swirl across the stage and in front of projections which bring to mind etchings of London and Paris from the period. Walton's design not only gives the production a fluidity and certain cinematic sweep, it also holds several clever surprises in store for audiences.

So, too, do a number of the performances in secondary roles, particularly Craig Bennett's understated turn as the garrulous "resurrectionist" Jerry Cruncher and Nick Wyman's portrayal of the double-crossing Englishman John Barsad. David Zinn's handsome period costumes also contain some unexpected flairs, occasionally making the performers look like caricatures that might have appeared during the Revolution or in print with Dickens' novel.

Ultimately A Tale of Two Cities does not have the panache to rival the stage adaptations of great works like Nicholas Nickleby or Les Miserables. Instead, this is a musical that does enough right to ensure that theatergoers are not insulted, but not enough to capture imaginations or hearts.

---- Andy Propst

A Tale of Two Cities plays at the Al Hirschfeld Theatre (302 West 45th Street). Performances are Monday at 8pm; Tuesday at 7pm; Wednesday at 2 and 8pm; Thursday at 8pm; Friday at 8pm; and Saturday at 2 and 8pm. Tickets are $59.00 - $120.00 and can be purchased by calling 212-239-6200 or by visiting www.telecharge.com. Further information is available online at www.TaleMusical.com